


Art Imitating Life

by GracieBirdie



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Mute Stiles Stilinski, Pre-Slash, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-22 02:08:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16588736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GracieBirdie/pseuds/GracieBirdie
Summary: “If I’m invited to any more funerals, I’m going to be featured at the next one.” Stiles said in a monotone.Lydia’s dead eyes were really the entire reason Stiles did what he did next.





	Art Imitating Life

**Author's Note:**

> okay so this might not make sense but I haven't written in anything in like three months and this idea had been bouncing around in my head for longer than that so here we are.

“If I’m invited to any more funerals, I’m going to be featured at the next one.” Stiles said in a monotone.

Lydia’s dead eyes were really the entire reason Stiles did what he did next.

***

“I’m sorry Mr. Stilinski, I don’t know what else to tell you.” Doctor Smith said as she looked over Stiles’ chart for a third time.

Stiles’ dad paused in his pacing to look at the doctor with his terrified eyes. “Look, Doctor, yesterday I couldn’t have gotten my son to shut up for all the candy in the world and today and he can’t make a sound. How else do you explain that other than a medical emergency?”

Stiles fought back a wince. He had always hated upsetting his dad but it was an unfortunate necessity this time. When dealing with the Powers that Be one had to make certain sacrifice and they certainly didn’t care that it was causing his dad distress.

Doctor Smith put aside Stiles’ chart and adjusted her glasses with a soft sigh. “I really am sorry to tell you Mr. Stilinski, but there really isn’t anything physically wrong with your son.” she paused and gave Stiles a sad glance. “Have you considered...having him speak to a therapist?”

His dad’s jaw and fists all clenched in unison while he looked at Stiles with immense sadness. “We’ve talked about it before...but he’s never agreed to go. And I didn’t want to make anything worse by making him.”

Stiles fought back an eye roll at his dad’s lackluster explanation. He knew therapy would have done him a world of good when he was younger and it would have certainly helped his dad exponentially.

“Well,” Doctor Smith said decisively. “If Stiles is going to refuse to speak to anyone than the only thing I can suggest you do is have him see a psychiatrist.”

His dad’s shoulders dropped and he gave a defeated nod.

* * *

 

Therapy went better than Stiles had been expecting it to. But considering he’d been expecting to end up in an institution that wasn’t really saying much.

The therapist, Doctor Mills, had gone the whole “We’ll just sit here in silence until you feel like talking.” route and had taken notes on Stiles while he’d read his latest book on applied physics.

At the end of the hour he had Stiles’ dad make an appointment for the next week and told his dad that he was a very stubborn little guy.

Stiles rolled his eyes so hard it hurt.

School was were he had the most problems. Considering Stiles had had his ability to communicate through languages taken away he could no longer write. Or speak. Or answer any of their questions in any way. His teachers noticed rather quickly, not as quickly as he’d been expecting but not slowly as they could have.

Doctor Mills kept giving Stiles disappointed looks and made very off handed remarks about Stiles having to be put in special ed if he didn’t get his act together.

Not in those exact words of course, but Stiles could read between the lines.

His dad got progressively more distressed and upped his drinking, much to Stiles’ fury.

Stiles did his best to communicate through gestures his feelings and needs but it wasn’t until he’d poured his dad’s entire stalk of alcohol down the drain while he was passed out on the couch and lined the empty bottles along the coffee table that his dad figured out one thing Stiles wanted.

At Stiles’ next appointment with Doctor Mills he made his dad come in with him and pulled out one of the empty whiskey bottles he’d hidden in his backpack. That got his second point across.

***

Special Ed classes weren’t that bad. As long as Stiles was quiet, which wasn’t at all hard in his case, and attempted to do the work the teachers gave him he was pretty much left alone. It wasn’t like he ever made any disruptions in class, the less people that paid attention to him the better.

The other students also seemed content to leave Stiles alone. Even Jackson had decided that Stiles was no longer worth messing with if he wasn’t going to react anymore.

Stiles could still have lunch with Scott and that helped him feel more centered than he had been expecting. Scott would occasionally give him worried looks but he’d seemed to have taken it upon himself to fill the silence Stiles now had. He chattered about everything and nothing every time he and Stiles were together.

It was actually kind of relaxing to have someone else do the talking for once.

***

Someone had told his dad that routine would be good for Stiles so every Saturday afternoon was spent in the gazebo at the local park.

Stiles would work on his terrible art skills while his dad patrolled the park. They’d have a late lunch and then spend the rest of Saturday at home doing their own thing in the same room. Stiles certainly thought that giving up his voice was worth all the time he was getting to spend with his dad.

One Saturday Stiles heard a very familiar voice yelling “Cora Hale, I swear to god, if you beat up one more person while on my watch I’m never taking you to the park again!”

Stiles’ breath caught and he shot to his feet to look around the park, desperately trying to find Peter.

He’d somehow managed to stumble onto a perfect scenario and he definitely had to take advantage of it.

He relaxed slightly when he finally spotted him sitting on a bench across from the swings.

Stiles pulled his folder of Important Drawings from his backpack and flipped through it until he found his clearest picture of a house on fire with vaguely wolf or dog shapes burning on the lawn.

Stiles knew if Doctor Mills ever saw one of his Important Drawings his therapy sessions would increase tenfold so he always made sure to have the really gruesome ones hidden inside the false back he’d put in the folder.

He very carefully folded the paper, just in case his dad happened to see him, and determinedly made his way to Peter.

He took a long deep breath before he lightly tapped Peter on the shoulder. Peter turned to look at him and Stiles was stuck by how young he looked. He was probably in his early twenties and he looked it.

Stiles coughed awkwardly and held out the folded drawing, staring at Peter intently. Peter stared back for a few seconds before taking the paper with a bemused expression.

“What’s this?” he asked, sounding only mildly interested.

Stiles just continued to stare at him, hoping he was coming off as unnerving and memorable so Peter would take the drawing seriously.

Peter unfolded the drawing and stared down at it, taking it in and trying to decipher it’s meaning. His head snapped up and his gaze turned cold when he asked “What does this mean?”

The two stared at each other until Stiles heard his dad calling for him.

“Stiles! There you are! Don’t scare me like that.” his dad said in exasperation. He gently set his had on Stiles’ shoulder and probably would have pulled his back to the gazebo if Peter hadn’t stood up and given him a blinding smile.

“Hello.” he said, holding his hand out to his dad. “Is this your son? Stiles was it?”

His dad looked Peter up and down completely unimpressed with him and Stiles fought back a smile.

“Was my son bothering you?” he asked, frowning at the paper Peter was still holding.

Peter lowered his, no doubt a little disconcerted but not letting his smile drop. “Oh no, he wasn’t bothering me.” Peter said without any indication of what Stiles had been doing if he hadn’t been bothering him.

His dad didn’t look convinced but he also never did anything to discourage Stiles when he was acting like his old self. “Well, have a good afternoon then.” he said lightly pulling Stiles away.

Stiles gave Peter a huge happy grin and an enthusiastic wave as he let his dad pull him away.

Peter dropped his own smile and looked downright suspicious. He didn’t wave back.

Stiles didn’t even try to hide his pleased gloating from his dad as they ate lunch.

Less than a month after Stiles had given Peter a prophetic fourth grader’s drawing Kate Argent was arrested for statutory rape.

***

Stiles didn’t go out of his way to run into any of the Hales but he still managed to see them constantly.

Cora had apparently seen Stiles hand Peter his drawing because she’d decided that she was going to figure out Stiles and had taken to following him and Scott around, a bit like a puppy but Stiles would never tell her that.

Scott was adorably confused by it all but he accepted her pretty easily.

Laura had tried to convince his dad to let her babysit him and had only quit after Stiles had ripped up not only her homework but also one of her textbooks in a bid to show her that he didn’t need a babysitter.

Derek started sitting at the same table as him at the library. Stiles actually liked this quiet young version of Derek and always gave him a smile and a wave when he saw him.

Derek, Cora, and Laura were all amusing but Peter was Stiles’ favorite. Every Saturday he came to the park and sat in the gazebo with Stiles while they waited for his dad to get off duty.

Peter always brought something to give to Stiles, usually paper to draw on or some sort of drawing instrument. Once he’d even brought a large chunk of oven bake clay.

Stiles always gave him a drawing before he went off to have lunch with his dad, who had long ago given up on making Peter leave Stiles alone.

Most of the time the drawings didn’t make sense to anyone other than Stiles, but Peter always took them like they were incredibly important. Stiles strongly suspected Peter had a folder of his own filled with Stiles’ drawings. For some reason Stiles found that thought incredibly sweet.

***

Life went on. Stiles never technically graduated high school but that didn’t bother him.

He got better at art and branched out into mediums other than just paper and pencil.

People bought his art.

He got to watch Beacon Hill thrive and his dad live and the Hales take care of the land.

Sometimes he gave Peter a prophetic drawing.

Slowly he learned sign language.

He had no idea why he could sign but he wasn’t going to turn down the gift.

He taught his dad and Peter and Scott and the rest of the Hales.

His life turned out different than he’d been expecting it to be but he eventually decided he was happy.

He never spoke again but he figured his art and his hands spoke enough for him.

**Author's Note:**

> come hand out with on [tumblr](https://graciebirdie.tumblr.com/) if you want or don't which ever is fine.


End file.
